


Not All That Glitters

by lvandrr



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: 1920s, Alternative Universe - Mafiafell, Alternative Universe - Mobfell, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Female Reader, Historical Inaccuracy, Mild Gore, Monsters live above, Murder, Original City, POV First Person, Period-Typical Sexism, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader is trying to live her life, Sexual Harassment, Slight torture, Slow Burn, blackmailing, monster racism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2020-12-24 21:03:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21105977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lvandrr/pseuds/lvandrr
Summary: "It's the city. Nobody likes it.""only if you're at the bottom, missy."You're a simple girl, just trying to get by in a world that eats everyone up alive. With monsters having emerged from the underground not too long ago, power dynamics are pried apart and old systems are broken as more and more chaos taints the streets.Amidst all that a certain skeleton gets a taste for you, quickly weaving you into his world, deeper and deeper until there is no escape from the city's most rotten core.*Mafiafell! Sans x Reader**First Person POV*





	1. Plattriver Borough

**Author's Note:**

> Monday afternoons bring Tuesday blues...

It was a slow, warm day on this beautiful autumn afternoon. Customers were rare and inbetween, rather spending the last rays of sunshine outside, passing the empty streets ever so often. Every time my head almost fell off my shoulders with how fast I tried to look through the small kitchen window. Fingers sticky with dough and sugar, I was almost sure my face and hair were covered in flour. As long as it was no batter because I was not repeating that disaster.

Joey had called in just in the morning, his daughter brought a beautiful little baby girl into this world and he wanted to spend some quality time with his first grandchild. Well who was I to deny an old man to spend with his family? Perhaps I had been a little bit too cocky with my statement that I could handle everything just fine. I congratulated Joey and his daughter and went back to work with an easy smile on my face and a soft hum on my lips. And while the day was slow enough I soon understood why the old man had hired me a few years back. Baking, selling and cleaning at the same time had me using my entire brain, not to miss anything.

If only my brain could concentrate on what I was doing anyway. Absentmindely I roll the dough between my fingers.

Another gun fight uptown had cost severaly people their lives. The third one this month and every rat on the streets knew, Don Livio was losing territory. Ever since...monsters came from the underground, they have established themselves, taking over the small and unimportant businesses, those close to bankruptcy. Nobody minded at the time, the usual hate groups had been spewing lies regardless but now...

The streets were infested with crime no matter where one turned. I bite my lip, looking outside, noticing a small family of three walk by the store. No, that wasn't quite it. Under Don Livio's undisputed reign it had been an open secret about how the world worked. People disappearing once in a while, cops looking the other way, a business here or there burning down in a so called insurancy fraud. It was plain as daylight but nobody wanted to get murked; so we all stayed quiet and paid our protection fees.

Monsters were different from humans. Less subtle and yet more secretive than any of us could ever be. Easily enough and right under our noses they had taken over massive amount of ground, each new day and each new month let the violence boil over. The small people just tried to live under whoever was currently running the town. Not Mayor Buchanan, that lazy good-for-nothing drunk, that's for sure.

The ring of the bell almost makes me trip on my feet. Hastily I move to the front only to freeze in the doorway. Just my luck, isn't it...

The lilac suit stands out heavily but compliments the brownish fur perfectly, dirty green eyes staring back at me, floppy ears twitching from side to side.

“You're not allowed to smoke in here, sir.” My lips tremble at the sheer stupidity.

The monster bares his teeth, a purring growl echoing through the room. He puts his cigarette out, though. What is he doing here anyway? Monsters never came into Plattriver, too little influence and not enough benefactors. It was a quiet neighborhood with small people.

“Somethin' sweet, honey.” The monster dismissively waves his hand.

“Well, what can I help you with? Anything in particular?”

“Just somethin' sweet.”

Oh, so he is going to do this the hard way. Every once in a while a man would come into the bakery demanding something sweet for his missus. Probably an argument they really did not care apologizing for. Women put up with too much shit in my humble opinion.

I raise my brow, wiping my hands clean before stepping behind the counter. Shoulders squared I put on my best smile with eyes that just scream, try me. An attitude problem Ma and Pa had called it, a getaway from social security. Thankfully it was Joe who taught me that having a business meant taking in stride and hitting with pride.

“We have a whole variety of sweets!”, I almost cringe at how cheerful and upbeat my voice sounds, “Macaroons, raspberry scones, doughnuts, butterscotch petit fours...”

The monster hesitates, clearly overwhelmed and annoyed with the amount of stuff and I couldn't blame him. During breaks I could never choose what to nibble on.

Eyeing the counter he begins to sweat. Fingers nervously dribbling on his pants, his dark eyes eye me curiosly. “What are you makin' in the back?”

“Cinnamon rolls. But they'll take at least another half an hour.”

The monster looks me up and down,assessing if I'm telling the truth. Flicking his wrist a golden bedazzled watch comes to view that has me breathing funny for a moment. That sucker was worth more than anything I could ever hope to own.

“Geez...fine. Get them done and then get me some coffee, missy.”

His abrasive tone did not sit well with me and I feel insulted by the sheer audacity. Rich people, huh? Walking to the back I continue with the sweet treats, pondering the monsters stance. He wasn't just some rich cat, strolling around the neighborhood. No, with that kind of watch and suit, walking the streets in broad daylight; he must belong to the monster mafia one way or another. While it did bother me, serving a criminal so personally I tried to block it out. As long as he was paying I couldn't – should! care less. The whole city was either run by Don Livio or some monsters, and letting racism get inbetween the important thing – that the city was infested with crime – didn't help ease my worries at night.

Buns in the oven, I wash my hands quickly before making the monster a coffee. Walking to the front, I see him lounging on one of the white chairs. Tipping his fingers in an even rhythm, looking utterly bored with himself.

“Don't go easy on the cream, missy.”

“Sure thing, sir. Do you have another wish?”

The monsterclicks his tongue in a contemplating manner, eyeing the counter.

“Pack up one of everything plus a few of the buns once they're done.”

Butterflies were set loose in my stomach. All air leaving my lungs at once.

“Sir, you know that will cost greatly.”

The monster huffs indignantly, a milk moustache staining his brown fur. “Do I look like I care? Just get it done, missy.”, heaving a sigh, he sipps on his coffee. Rubbing his forehead, he swirls the cream lazily, licking it here and there.

I wasn't complaining. By God I was not complaining! Hah, Joey's jaw would drop through the floor once he'd see the massive sale for this particular day. With a bounce in my step I strut behind the counter, cheeks tinted red once I hear the monsters amused huff.

“Sudden good mood?”

I chuckle quietly.

“Well, it's not everyday such a generous customer comes by. If I may ask, is that all for yourself? I can't believe someone eating it all – everything is so sweet.”

Crossing his legs the monster relaxes towards my position. “Heh, you don't have to tell me. No, I don't touch that stuff. I hate all that sugary crap. But my boss...”

He stops appraisingly. Gauging my reaction to whoever he is referring to. I didn't let my nagging curiosity show. Folding paper and filling bags I simply raise a brow for him to continue.

“...he's got a major sweet tooth.”

I smirk. How cute~ A big bad mafia boss who loved his candies and sweet treats. It's a break from the typical cliché of whiskey and cigars. Who knows, maybe he was more into soda pop as well.

The shrill sound of the oven bell rips me out of my thoughts and hastily I rush over to the sweet buns. Gloves on, I can feel the his piercing stare on my back. Quickly packing them up, I put on another smile turning back to the monster who had stood up again.

Considerate enough to put the empty coffee cup on the wet bar, he fingers a bundle of green out of his pocket and I bite my lip, swallowing the upcoming envy. Gold watch, stacks of dough... perhaps momma had been right all along. Finding a wealthy husband was all the rage after all. Alas...

“Thank you so much for the purchase and you patience, sir.”

Gratefully I accepte the money, I was already giddy to tell Joey about the massive sale. He'd be so happy, probably babbling on about opening a fund for his grandchild or something. Smiling softly, I wave shyly at the monster, who had already turned towards the exit, hands full of bags.

“Have a nice day and come again, sir!”

“Pray this is the last you see of me, fleshbag.”

I should be insulted by that word but there was no real malice behind the his voice. He seems tired more than anything and even the coffee didn't seem to have waken his spirits. The bell chimed loudly when he left and I just watch him turn right, down the street, sneaking a last glance through the window.

The rest of the day passes by uneventful, a few kids from school buying a little snack and some older couples treating themselves to an afternoon coffee. Easy customers and an early night in.

Wiping the last tables and stacking the chairs, I quickly put on my overcoat, grabbing the keys and turning off the lights. I spare a glance towards the telephone. Just an hour ago Joey had called, gushing over his sweet granddaughter, bragging like only a grandfather could, about how she looked like him and how she'd be a stunning heartbreaker. I had surpressed a laugh at that expression. Compliment away but the girl was not even a full day on earth. She sure got more than boys on her mind right now. If she's got anything on her mind at all.

Shaking my head I locked the door, rattling it a bit just to be sure.

A cold breeze rushes through the streets, shivers taking a hold of my body and I pull my overcoat a bit tighter around my shoulders. Gaze locked towards the ground I made sure not to step into rubble or random garbage littering the streets. Boarded up windows, broken plaster and crude to unrecognizable grafitti. The neighborhood had gone to the dogs ever since Don Livio and the monsters moved their conflict further uptown. Brinsteen downtown had already suffered, the local school there even had to close for a few days while police collected bullet shells and bodies. Money and violence ran deep and I always wondered how it could even come to something like this. Was there was an innate corruption that lied in certain city folk, waiting for something to take advantage off? Or was it a simple coincidence, a mixture of enough threats and money to grease the city slick. Either way I wanted as little to do with the mobsters, human or monsters, as possible.

The next morning found me yawning at sunrise, easing into the day, and enjoying my morning coffee. Tuesday was always a slow day for business, most people being at work and having no time to shop. With no rush in my step I walked the practically empty sidewalk to my destination. Head in the clouds, playing with the keys.

I almost topple over once I spot the familiar brown fur and lilac suit from yesterday, leaning against the closed door. A cigarette losely hanging from his mouth, arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed he tried to get some necessary shut-eye if the bags under his eyes were anything to go by.

“Good morning, sir. It's nice to see you again but we don't open until eight am.”

Cautiously I toy with the keys.

“Too bad, missy.”

… Rude much? Who does he think he is? Opening the doors with a little more force than necessary, I swallow the angry grunt and desire to throw him out as he was following me like a baby duck.

“Boss liked your stuff.”

The thin grin is not friendly in any way and strangely enough, his green eyes emitt something akin to pity. Was...that such a bad thing?

“Is that so?”

“Yup. Let's just say we'll see a lot of each other from now on.”


	2. Just Like Mama Used To Make Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which words hold double meanings...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
Thank you all so much for the postive reaction to the first chapter! I was rather nervous about the idea and all, so I'm over the moon that you guys like it so far!  
As I tagged it's going to be a rather slow burn buuuut Sans is already introduced in this chapter which means the plot it offically about to start~
> 
> I hope you'll enjoy it <3

“Everyday?! Well, send my regards to your boss.”

“Don't blame me, missy. Not my fault you're good at what you're doing. Besides shouldn't you be happy about a regular?”

BP, as the monster had finally introduced himself, lifted the chairs of the tables, sitting down with a heavy sigh. Well, he wasn't wrong but still.

“Oh, don't give me that face, missy.”

“Y/n.”

“What?”

Turning on the ovens I turn back towards BP. “Y/n. That's my name.”

“I know, missy.” He stresses the pet name and grins evily when I shoot him a dirty look. So much for niceties. Yet I found myself enjoying BP's (what kind of abbreviated name is that anyway) bristly company in some weird way. He looks tired and annoyed at the world like he did yesterday, the heavy bags under his eyes never seem to disappear. He was real and...I liked it.

“Whatever. You want a coffee?”

“Hell yeah. And don't go-”

“Easy on the cream, yeah, yeah, I remember.”

BP's brows rise distinctly, his posture straightening and his smirk looking positively evil.

“My, my. That's how you treat your customers?”

Why you little...! Red in my cheeks I smash the coffee cup onto the table. Too bad it doesn't spill. Frowning I take notice of his mischievous gleam and cool myself down.

“We're not technically open, so you're not technically a customer, BP.”

BP holds a hand dramatically towards his chest.

“Don't tell me we're friends already?”

“Stop mocking me. Drink your coffee before I kick you out.”, I mutter under my breath and turn back towards the kitchen. Gathering some essentials for Joey's Tuesday Lemon Tarts, humming lowly to myself. Baking was one of my life's pride and joy. It was something easy and simple to do, following directions and being able to enjoy the outcome in a most delicious manner. And yet it required a massive amount of knowledge and know-how; the amateur may create some edible treats but only a master chef was able to turn food into magic.

Biting my lip I finger a box of cannoli, walking back to the front.

“Here for you. These go well with your coffee.”

BP had been snoozing away, head supported my his arm. Ripping his eyes open, his posture immediately straightens before he sneers at the pastries I hold out for him.

“Missy I told you, I don't like sweet stuff.”

“They're cream filled though. I thought you'd enjoy them.”

“How much?”

“Nothing. They're on the house.”

“Huh, such niceties will get you killed, missy.”

He doesn't make a move to grab the box from me, which is fine. Placing it onto the table next to him, I proceed to open the cashbox to recount the money for today.

“...if I may ask.”, I begin and lift my eyes. Smiling wickedly I see BP trying, being the key word, to lick out the cream out of the cannoli in a ridiculous way. His green eyes meet mine and his tongue slowly returns to its dignified place, inside his mouth. What was it about not liking sweets...? Liar, liar pants on fire~

“Huh?”

“What are you doing here so early anyway?”

The sun just began shining above the houses roofs, filling the room with a light sheen. The first people got to their cars outside, usually construction workers or police officers.

“I...don't exactly sleep a lot, given my job.”

BP's eyes never leave my form. He still continues to watch me like a hawk, switching between drinking and eating. Yes, you don't have to stare so obviously, BP! I was dying inside with curiosity at what he was doing exactly. I was almost a hundred percent sure that he was a mafia associate but were his real labor laid, that I was curious to know. Yet I keep my lips shut. After all it wasn't polite to pry into a customer's private life, not to mention I did not want to know more than I could handle. Smile and turn the other way, just like I always do.

“That's unfortunate. Sleeping is very important after all.”

BP sneeres audibly. Confused I turn to him, seeing him lean forwards in his chair. “What?”

“That sounded like blabbering without anything to say.”

“Well, I'm not taking your bait! It's not my business what you do.”

BP grimaces and I instantly regret my sharp words. Deflated, he slouches backwards, knees spread up, gaze locked outside the window. Tipping his finger on the coffee cup.

“...Gotta go. The buns at twelve sharp, alright?”

He didn't even wait for my response, rushing out of the door, bell chiming loudly in the morning glory. Turning right once more, he doesn't even spare another glance through the window.

Perhaps I had been a bit rough on him. Right in a way, his words about customer treatment came back and I blamed myself the entire rest of the morning for my outburst. I had no right to talk to him like that and I was shocked with how out of character it was for me. False bravery? More like prejudicial sneering. Ashamed, my cheeks had reddened when BP returned at noon. Wordlessy dropping the money on the counter without as much as sparing me a glance.

“I'm sorry for earlier.”

“'is alright. Morning blues I get it.”

A false smile as he departed with the bag swinging at his side.

I didn't know BP. I didn't know what he was doing, who he was a person or how he ended up being so dissociated. While I stood by me having no business in his life I wished I could've told him a bit...gentler. Just a tiny bit.

Wiping the oven clean absentmindedly, the last fresh batch steaming on the counter, I ponder if I could bake BP some fresh cannoli for tomorrow morning. A smile tugs at my lips at the image of seeing him lick out the cream. He had looked so much like an actual cat in that moment. 

The chime of the bell was interupted by the shrill voice of Babs Priestley.

“Good afternoon, Miss L/n!”

Babs always had a twang in the way she spoke, I ofen wondered if she was from the south.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Priestley. The usual?”

“Nah, nah, child. Today I will treat myself to some pudding swirls. A few blessed days of not watching my figure.”

“Is Mr. Priestley out of town again?”

“Yeah, yeah; the husband is gone for the week. Some important car convention or whatever it's called.”

Mr. Priestley was a high ranking office worker in one of the city's most noble car factories on the outskirt of town. In his youth he used to be a simple engineer, as he had told me after one two many glasses of scotch at the neighborhood street fair, with big dreams when cars became the new rage. I wouldn't know. I never even sat in one of those fancy things.

“Shipped in new models from Germany to gawk and stare at.”

Chuckling I pack the swirls into paper. “That sounded rather ambigious.”

“Don't you dare put ideas in my head, young lady!”, Babs responds jovially, swating the air with her fist.

“Oh by the way, have you heard the news about Larry?”

“Larry who?”

Furrowing my brow I see Babs clutching her chest in a tragic manner. Eyes wide she leans forward cryptically. “Larry the butcher, from Midmont Street. Just down the road.” She gestures to the right.

“Oh yeah, what about him?”

“His shop was destroyed last night.”

My fingers freeze, paper bristling under my stiff touch. Swallowing, I tilt my head. I hadn't known Larry that well. Only saw him occasionally when buying a pound of meat for the weekend. Babs is eyeing me up and down, craving my reaction. Gossiping old hag.

“Do we know why?”

Babs nods eagerly, eyes widening more, stretching her over-done eyeshadow. “Yeah, yeah; apparantly, Larry has switched sides. And Don Livio naturally sent his regards.”

I nod. Yes, that makes sense. Don Livio's been on edge ever since the monsters settled in the city, his old drive to rule with an iron fist came back with a vengance. I wonder what Larry was thinking, turning on someone so powerful. Or rather, what he was expecting to happen? Each to their own and maybe Larry got paid heavenly for whatever he did for the monsters.

“Well, I don't want to cause panic but I believe it was my duty to tell you.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Priestley.”

Did she hear my sarcasm? God, I hope not.

“Yes, yes. Just be safe, little lady.”

“Will be.”

With a bounceful turn in her step, I watched her mildy wide behind walk out of the store. I had nothing against Babs, she was nice when she wanted to be but her boring life as an upperclass wife had turned her into a nasty gossiper.

Finishing up the shop turned out to be a quick affair this day and I leave the store with the usual door rattle.

My steps slow and at ease I look around the fallen city. Would a quick peak hurt? Just to soothe my curiosity? It is well after sun down, nobody should be at the scene anyway.

My feet had a mind of their own and my familiar path home was interrupted by Midmont Street. Turning left instead of walking ahead, I cross the road quickly, streetlamps illuminating the dank pavement. While it was true that I did not know Larry that well, I just had to see the damage myself. Seeing the carnage first hand was something that I (tragically or luckily depending on the viewpoint) had not seen before. Stray bullet shells, burgundy remains of blood or freshly boarded houses yes... but never a true crime scene.

The stench greets me first when I arrive. Meat beginning to rot. Some flies buzzing loudly in the quiet night. Glass shards crunch noisily under my shoes, the shop's windows completely busted in. A police tape hangs loose and looks comical with the knowledge about what happened here. A shy glance inside assures me that a lot of product had been stolen. The poor families, I gather, and the street rats. I wonder briefly were Larry was, hospital or morgue. Babs hadn't been clear about that. The blood on the floor had dried and is indistinguishible. No inclination whether human or animal. 

But the shop was destroyed alright.

“good evening.”

Startled by the sudden voice I turn around. Eyes widening into saucers, my lips part and I stumble over a greeting back.

“H-hello...I-i mean, good evening, sir.”

His wide grin broadens. He was...a monster. A skeleton. Strangely enough to his intimidating height (he was a good foot taller than me) came his broad shoulders and body. His tailored suit fit him seamlessly yet seemed to stretch just the slightest bit around his middle. The golden vest buttons glistening in dank lights of the streetlamps. A single golden tooth matching the theme of gold along with some intricate stitchings on the vest.

Why, oh why did I have to detour here? Being spotted now left me with no excuse to leave quickly, least I raise suspicion. I bite my lip at my stupidity, gradually turning to the shop to not continue to stare at the skeleton.

“what's a little lady like you doing here?”

He steps beside me, aura giving off imposing vibes and yet he seems contained. Voice amiably and soothing but I do not miss the inquisitive undertone.

“I eh...heard about the wrecking and wanted to see for myself.”

He laughs, deep voice rumbling with the sound. Out of the corner of my eye I see him pull out a cigar. Quickly lighting it I watch him take a deep puff; he is considerate enough to blow the smoke into the other direction.

“what is it then, missy. morbid curiosity or a fetish for blood?”

I shoot him a disgusted look to whish he shrugs his shoulders.

“hey, you'd be surprised at the scumbags walking the alleys up and down.”

“Well, what are you doing here then, sir?” My momentarily spur of confidence set my tongue loose and I raise my brow accusingly. He grins sharkishly the...red gleam in his eyes widening.

“assessing damage.”, comes the silky reply.

My heart does a weird thing for a second.

“Are you working in insurance or something?”

Why do I even bother asking? I know the obvious answer. Assessing damage at this hour of the day? Another mobster looking for scraps I'm sure. What was the possibility of meeting two in such a close timespan? Perhaps they are truly breeching into Plattriver searching for new ground. The thought does not settle well when I think about the easy simple life. Nobody in the sleepy part of town had time for drama.

Another low chuckle rumbles through the air, one I swear I can feel on my skin. I feel him eye me up and down, the raking shivers down my spine trying to persuade me to stare back at him with a vengence.

“something like that, missy. now, if i may ask, who are you little lady?”

“Y/n.” I reply before I can stop myself.

“hm...pretty name. and what are you doing here? it's pretty strange for a young woman to come out in the middle of the night looking at some...butchered shop.”

A stretch of tension filled silence follows. Did...did he just make some sort of pun? A small smile tugs at my lips at the sheer absurdity and I lower my head to hide it.

“No,”, my answer to my own suprise softer, “I work nearby and heard about the shop being destroyed. I just finished closing and thought to see for myself.”

An appeasing hum comes from him.

“while i understand curiosity it is dangerous for a young dame to walk around alone at night.”

I overlook the condescension with a tight coil in my belly, writing it off as genuine worry. Why, oh why was it always, always dangerous to walk the streets at night? I do not want to sound like defending my own case but statistically speaking, men were murdered three time as often as women.

...he wasn't talking about murder, was he?

“It's alright, I do it about everyday with having to close the shop and all.”

“where do you work again?”

I hesitate for just a second.

“The bakery in Clearbay Street, Trista's Treats.”

I send him a smile that was just a tiny bit strained and turn just in time to see his red eyelights widen pleasantly, the red glow shining ominously yet beautifully in the night. His sudden cough startles me some last puffs of smoke escaping his teeth. He straightens assuringly, holding out his hand for me to take.

“where are my manners. 'scuse me, missy. my name is sans. i should've introduced myself earlier.”

With a bold grip he takes my hand, bones warm a strange softness to them, and lifts it to his face. Leaning down his eyes close, malleable bone dropping over the alluring red of his eyes. He does not have lips to my surprise and his teeth press gently against the back of my hand, the golden one cooling one spot near my little finger.

“i truly apologize for scaring you with my rude questions. big monster in front of a butcher's shop holds some funny metaphor.” His words do nothing to reassure me. 

“not to mention 'is kinda late. mind if i walk you home, little lady?”

My lips tremble. While he has been nothing but polite I do not want Sans to follow me to my apartment. I am fine with serving and conversing with monsters but I do not need any of them to know where I live.

“That's awfully kind, Mr. Sans but...I'm sure you understand...I don't know you and taking you home with me seems a bit...unsafe.”

“whoa, whoa, doll. nobody said nothing about taking me home, don't get ahead of yourself.”

Cheeks red I look sideways. Leave it to me to say something so ambiguous to a stranger in the middle of the night. But seeing his teasing gleam after glancing back at him, I realize he's messing with me good. 

“pardon for that little joke, missy. given the circumstance i know it's in bad taste. alas...i wouldn't mind just to let you know.”

A pregnant pause settles over us. I'm not sure how to respond to something like that. Is it a compliment to be called 'doable'? Perhaps Sans has only backtracked in fear of insulting my looks. He clears his throat.

“as to who i am...heh...i'm sure we know each other.”

A heavy frown settles on my face. When had I ever met someone like him?

“or rather we know of each other.”, he retreats after seeing my confusion, “trista's treats you said? well, let me introduce myself again as your new loyal customer. your cinnamon buns are to die for, doll.”

My stomach drops with the speed of lightning, nausea taking me over for a quick second. BP's boss, the big boss I should want nothing to do with according to the cat monster stands right in front of me? The world must have a sick sense of humor to put me in such a situation. On the other hand...perhaps it is a good thing to seize up my customer. While his form is intimidating he seems approachable enough, the easy air around him lulling me into a sense of security. Let's just hope it isn't false and misplaced.

My tongue is still as heavy as lead and I do not manage to even croak a reaction to his words. That is probably rude but Sans does not seem to mind. Jovially he holds out his arm, stepping to my side courteously.

“now that formalities are done and behind us, doll; i simply insist on walking you home. wouldn't want my new favorite to come to harm.”

Kind. His words are kind. But his tone leaves no room for discussion.


	3. Sweet Tooth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some days everything just works out...at least in Sans' case...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am with the next chapter!  
This time from Sans' POV. I plan to have a few of these sprinkled inbetween whenever they fit so do expect them and tell me if you like it!  
Furthermore thank you all so much for the kudos and comments, it truly blew me away and it really makes my day seeing you enjoy the story so far! Motivates me a lot to write as fast as I can <3
> 
> Other than that enjoy <3

Everything always comes with a price, doesn't it? Irritated Sans' phalanges tipped on the wooden desk, the rythmic tap tap tap the only sound in the otherwise stuffy study. Ever since his brother dearest tackled more and more missions, making plans and what not Sans did not have a quiet minute to relax. Granted the money flowed in like a fountain and the underlings cowered in fear – as they should – but damn if Sans didn't miss a good drink at ol' Grillby's. Even Shyren's crooked notes made him feel nostalgic for a night out. That fish was anything but a born performer but at least she was something pretty to look at.

Usually it was Papyrus himself who dragged his drunken ass out of there berating him about work ethic or some shit.

Heaving a sigh Sans opened yet another useless folder.

He didn't even know why his brother was so agitated. If anything uptown proofed how defenseless those puny humans were not to mention their Don. Old as shit and sedentary beyond belief; it was only a matter of time until the city was under their control...

The door opened and the person must have had balls of steel to interrupt him during...plotting.

“'sup boss.”

BP, that useless son of a bitch entered the room leisurely, gaze bored. A cigarette between his lips, he sauntered towards Sans, leaning on the table without a care in the world. There was no bravery in facing Sans so unabashed, just a thinly veiled taste for suicide.

“What'cha need?”

He was way to casual in his adressing. Alas...Sans didn't care enough to correct the pissy cat's behavior. And frankly spoken behind closed doors, it was refreshing talking to someone who didn't shit their pants. He was used to BP's stoic, almost melancholic attitude. Heh...not like the bastard had no reason...

“lunch bp. somethin' sweet and hurry your ass up.” 

“Geez, bad day?”

He shot BP a killer gaze that left the cat unfazed. Pushing himself off the table, BP took his time walking back as if only to spite Sans. Perhaps he should test that theory about nine lives after all...

“'nd just make sure it's not muffet's! bitch crossed us the wrong way, ya hear?”

“Yeah, yeah I was there!”, BP yelled after him, closing the door shut.

Rubbing his brow bone, Sans sighed heavily lighting another cigar while leaning back in his comfy big chair.

Muffet broke an important deal, her incy wincy spiders messing with things too big for the purple whore and Papyrus was very clear with his punishment. Financial ruin that would force the eight legged vermin to crawl back in shame.

A cruel chuckle escaped Sans.

Not to mention he disliked the crunchy feeling between his teeth even if there was the slight satisfaction of eating Muffet's loved ones.

Puffs of smoke blurred his vision for a moment, the letters unclear as he red the file thoroughly. All associates of the Font brothers were forbidden from interacting with Muffet in any way, shape or form. She was practically shunned until her business ran dry and she'd be forced to surrender the only thing left within her – her pride. And once that happened Papyrus' special punishment meant for re-education would put Muffet back in line for good. Sans vaguely knew what his brother did to break minds but made a point not to look too deeply into it. He didn't care about the fate of some traitors and underdogs and as long as his brother had fun doing what he did... hell he could pierce their souls for all he cared.

Minutes trickled by and Sans' prolonged smoke break only lasted him so long before he had to go back to work. Unlike his brother who liked gallivanting around in the streets, he preferred the comfort of his study, signing papers and smoking cigars. Unless boss put him up to a specific job.

“'sup again boss.”

Sans' eyelights followed the snarky voice. Hanging from BP's arms were bags and the cat better hoped they were good.

“what the hell took you so long?”

“No need to bitch around boss. The baker had to finish up some fresh stuff, 's why it took longer.”

Sans could practically taste the crispy fresh scent once placed on his desk.

“that attitude of yours will get you killed...buddy.”

BP froze for a second and Sans' eyelights sharpened. The tip of his tongue wet his lips, before a silly smile tugged on the cat's lips. What was he all about? Gauging his movements and expression, Sans picked up some change in aura, BP's nonchalance suddendly less forced than usual.

“Sure will boss.”, the cat sighed disinterested, walking to the couch near the door, crossing his legs over one another.

Keeping an eye on him Sans bit into the first pastry heartily. Hm, he had to hand it to the cat. At least he did his job well. The cream filling was delicious, fluffy and exactly what he was craving. Working his way through fruit rolls and cream puffs, he hummed at the distinct taste of cinnamon. It was overpowering but the unique lack of sugar made him halt his movements.

“where'd you say this was from?”

BP exhaled loudly.

“Some human bakery in Plattriver. Trista's Treats or somethin'.”

“plattriver?”, Sans listened up, “what the fuck where you doin' in plattriver?”

BP shrugged, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Fancied a change of scenery. And any reason to get away from you, screams for the long way home.”

“watch your mouth.”, Sans hissed violently, anger rising more and more. Patience was a virtue and sadly he was not gifted with many of them. He took another bite. Though no longer warm he could taste the freshness, dough still fluffy and the cinnamon swirls sticky and savory.

“...tell the baker i want about a dozen everyday now. 'round noon.”

BP's eyes shot up sharply. An indescribable look in them as they meet Sans' own heavy gaze.

“...sure thing boss.”

Without another word the cat stalked out the door, shutting it with more force than usual.

Sans sneered after him, opening up another folder in what would turn out to be a long, long day.

Shooting up with a heavy head, disoriented for a hot moment, the heavy ringing getting onto his last nerve as he picked the phone up gruffly, growling into the speaker. Some nerve the responsible fucker had for waking him up.

“Don't Make Me Come Over There, Sans! Fix Your Damn Attitude Before I Fix It For You!”

Great, just great. Of course his fucking brother, who else would call in the morning hours? Hold on. The quick look at the clock red 11:52 am...had he fallen asleep in his office again? Fuck, last nights bottle wasn't his best idea.

“sorry boss...what's up?”

“I'll Tell You What Is Up, Brother! Last Weeks Snitch Is In Hospital And His Shop Was Destroyed By That Pathetic Human Don!”

...what was his name again? That pig-eyed butcher who let them in on some of Livio's plans for the neighborhood. Good man, good for him... wait what did Papyrus say?

“run that by me again, boss.”

“Arghh! Listen To Me When I Talk To You, You Waste Of Mother's Magic!”

He leaned away from the phone at his brother's scream. Damn, he loved his brother but his indoor voice was never a strong suit.

“sorry boss.”

“Don't Apologize! Just Do What I Tell You To Do! As I Was Saying; The Butcher's Shop Was Destroyed And Since We Promised Him Payment For His Service I Want You To Check On The Damage And Report Back To Me!”

Did he have to? He was so comfortable in his seat. But there was no way he could talk his brother out of it if he fancied his bones intact.

“sure thing, boss. talk to you later.”

“And If I Dare Catch You Lollygagging...”

“yeah, yeah, boss. i got it, bye.”

A heavy groan escaped Sans once he hung up, stretching his tired bones, working out the kinks while doing so. Yawning heartily, he decided to go in the evening. No people and police gone already. He wasn't in the mood for people pleasing and frankly speaking he wasn't in the mood for people at all.

The knock on the door evoked an annoyed groan from him. Speak of the fucking devil...

“Shit, boss. It smells like sweat and regret in here. You sleep here again?”

BP had the manners to knock today? Geez, what holy spirit had come over him in the middle of the night. Sans didn't trust this behavior, even disregarding the disrespectful comment.

“yeah, yeah. what are you doin' here anyway?”

BP halted in his movements an incredilous grimace on his ugly mug.

“What do you mean, what I'm doing here? You wanted those cinnamon buns or whatever.”

Oh right...noon sharp. And stars yes, Sans needed something to soak up the rest alcohol from last night. The bag was unceremoniously dropped on his desk.

“By the way, the baker sends her regards.”

He stilled for a second. Her regards? The baker was a female? Eyeing the buns, Sans furrowed his brow. It surprised him that the baker was a women more than he liked to admit. It was rather seldom for a female to hold a job especially one so strenuous. Waking up early, hauling bags of flour and whatnot, burning hands on the ovens...perhaps it was someone's old lady, used to that sort of stuff. Not that he cared that much about some human working her ass off.

BP stood in the middle of the room, hands deeply burrowed in the pockets of his pants like he had nowhere else to be. Fucking cat...

“get lost, bp.”, Sans grunted into his treat.

“What'cha mean?”

“day off, get out of my face.”

Without another word but with a tired grin BP leaves, closing the door gently. Odd cat. Biting into another bun Sans stared after him long after he left. What was it now? Two, three years since BP started working for him? Nothing more than a dead gleam in his eyes and nothing to lose. And damn...even though Sans and Mettaton had buried the hatchet long ago he despised that glossed up garbage can. Maybe it was a spur of the moment snippet of mercy that had him take BP under his wing. He didn't deserve to be treated like that by that shiny ass man whore. And Sans was a hundred percent sure that the cat hadn't told him everything even after all those years.

The evening rolled in easily enough and Sans' sore bones ached for some movement. While preferring the sedentary lifestyle of doing absolutely nothing, constantly sitting down couldn't be good for nobody. He stood not even bothering to grab his coat or even changing his clothes – damn BP was right, sweat and regret alright – he zapped himself to the scene of the crime for a quick assessment.

The scent of something sweet within bloody mangle hit him first. Mouth-watering, Sans felt his tongue swell, saliva gathering and coating his teeth.

A tiny woman stood in front of the busted shop, not moving. A good head shorter than himself he observed the unmoving figure. Arms hugging her torso, he could see the outline of her curves through the thin jacket. A pretty but plain dress ending just above her knees, exposing her smooth legs. Hair tied losely, he imagined how it would look around her shoulders.

“good evening.”

The startled gasp had him grin widely, the matching face that turned to him stunning. Plain in her looks she had a unique form of pretty. Eyes clear, cheeks defined yet a certain roundness to them, he found himself wanting to bite into them like a crispy apple. Lips glistening and full looking like strawberry hard candy. He wondered if she'd taste as good as she looked...

“H-hello...I-i mean, good evening, sir.”

An angel voice to match – Sans could appreciate a pretty face when he saw one. And this one was definitively very pretty. But what did they say? It was the pretty ones that got you killed. And at this hour of the night Sans did wonder what a young woman was doing all alone by herself, coincidentely in front of the shop. He wasn't dumb enough to just fall for some gorgeous eyes. 

“what's a little lady like you doing here?”

Friendly enough, he stood beside her now seeing the shop himself for the first time. Eh, some busted windows and stolen produce. And the attack left that old butcher in the hospital not the morgue so he should be grateful. A couple thousands should keep the man happy for his service.

“I eh...heard about the wrecking and wanted to see for myself.”

A deep rumbling laugh escaped Sans. She heard about the wrecking and wanted to see? What was she? The local gossip lady, twiddling her thumbs until she found the latest drama to pounce on? Pulling out a cigar, he took a deep breath, the smoky taste mixing with the natural sweetness of the woman, making it taste even better.

“what is it then, missy. morbid curiosity or a fetish for blood?”

Or perhaps she was one of those deprived street rats. Here to steal some left over meat if only not to sell her backside for the night. Teeth clenched together he couldn't imagine the sweet woman next to him bouncing on some strangers lap. A natural aura of innocence surrounded her. The dark look she sent him only assured him in his thoughts.

“hey, you'd be surprised at the scumbags walking the alleys up and down.”

So she wasn't a street rat.

“Well, what are you doing here then, sir?”

Oh, snarky! He loved a lose tongue on a woman. Sans felt his eyelights expand pleasantly, the shivering but firm tone setting of some rumble in his chest.

“assessing damage.”

Well, he didn't lie. But the unbelieving gleam in her eyes told him she wasn't buying it. Smart thing...

“Are you working in insurance or something?”

Insurance...? Chuckling low, Sans restrained himself from petting the little treat's hair. Surely she didn't believe her own question, why bother asking. Or was he making her nervous perhaps~

“something like that, missy,”, he decided to throw her a bone, the red tint in her cheeks to die for but he didn't want her dying of embarrassment. Not yet anyway... “now, if i may ask, who are you little lady?”

“Y/n.”, came the quick answer.

Y/n....Y/n Y/n Y/n....

“hm...pretty name. and what are you doing here? it's pretty strange for a young woman to come out in the middle of the night looking at some...butchered shop.”

A pleased twitch reached his soul when he saw her try and fail to hide a smile. So she got the joke and found it funny? A woman after his own heart after all. Y/n...what a pretty name but at this point Sans was no longer surprised. Rare and inbetween he would come across a full package. Still...

“No, I work nearby and heard about the shop being destroyed. I just finished closing and thought to see for myself.”

She just came by after closing a shop. Poor young thing. Hands all rough and rugged from working so hard. Indeed he saw some dark bags under her eyes. Working this late however? Her husband had some nerve, even worse to let her walk home alone this late.

“while i understand curiosity it is dangerous for a young dame to walk around alone at night.”

So close to a crime scene nonetheless. Who knew if some of Don's lackeys were still roaming. While Sans was rather ruthless when it came to business he prided himself in the fact not to let harm come to innocent bystanders...or pretty ladies after night fall. Not unless they asked for it, that is.

“It's alright, I do it about everyday with having to close the shop and all.”

The tight tone in her voice informed him of some bit back comment. Tiredness? Or wounded pride? Maybe both.

“where do you work again?”

“The bakery in Clearbay Street, Trista's Treats.”

In a sudden cough the last of his smoke escaped him, cigar forgotten as the words echoed in his mind. The sweet scent he had first smelt increasing in intensity, the dots connected in his head. Eyelights wide he stared the pretty thing down. Oh, had he luck today! Hitting the jackpot on the first try! Fine hands and lithe fingers which had made the highlight of his day so far, not counting this very moment as he continued to gaze upon Y/n.

Holding out his hand, his posture straightened immediately if only to make a good impression...wasn't too late for that was it?

“where are my manners. 'scuse me, missy. my name is sans. i should've introduced myself earlier.”

He should've just accepted the handshake but he couldn't resist leaning down. Skin soft and warm against his bone, he felt the unusual dryness that came wit hard work. Lifting it up to his face, the sweet smell of vanilla and liquorice clinging to her skin. Teeth pressed against the back of her hand, he felt her shiver. Sans lingered a moment to long but didn't want to part sooner. What a treat he found himself today.

“i truly apologize for scaring you with my rude questions. big monster in front of a butcher's shop holds some funny metaphor.”

She did not send him a smile back. Releasing her hand albeit begrudingly, not that she noticed, he tried to make light of the situation. But of course she wouldn't feel safe with such an expression. Not that he could blame her. She was most likely scared shitless.

“not to mention 'is kinda late. mind if i walk you home, little lady?”

Her lips began to tremble. Stars, did he want to latch himself onto them like a leech. Bite them red and raw. What was this little thing....a siren? Seldom he found himself so hypnothized by a woman.

“That's awfully kind, Mr. Sans but...I'm sure you understand...I don't know you and taking you home with me seems a bit...unsafe.”

“whoa, whoa, doll. nobody said nothing about taking me home, don't get ahead of yourself.”

Oh, the stuttering blushing mess she became was worth his innuendo. Flabbergasted she looked at him like a deer in headlights. Lips parting and closing, searching for something her mind could not provide. Poor dear, hehe...

“pardon for that little joke, missy. given the circumstance i know it's in bad taste.”, he tried to assure her. Least she accused him of grabby hands or thought him a rapist.

“alas...i wouldn't mind just to let you know.”

Still he was Sans and making people uncomfortable with his words came with his name. And seeing this darling blush made him feel things, wanting to test how red she could truly become. Her eyes turned away to the side and her face fell a bit. Had he crossed the line already? Some ladies were gentler than others, he knew. Clearing his throat he garnered her attention once more.

“as to who i am...heh...i'm sure we know each other.”

The giddy tone in his voice was unstoppable. Gleefuly he watched her face scrunch up in adorable confusion, trying to figure out where she had met him.

“or rather we know of each other. trista's treats you said? well, let me introduce myself again as your new loyal customer. your cinnamon buns are to die for, doll.”

He all but purred that statement, enjoying the way her eyes widened in shock, her chest stopping to rise for a second as she held her breath. All the red in her cheeks made way for a pale ghastly white, lips turning dry and sticky for a second. Ah...so she did have an inkling who he was. Grin wide, Sans observed every move of her eye, every twitch of her finger, every single line on her face.

...maybe he could play with her a bit longer? She looked so vulnerable right now. Hands shaking he took in the goosebumps on her exposed legs. It wasn't particulary cold, although temperature didn't bother him as much as her, he was sure. And stars forbid his new big favorite got sick. He still craved those cinnamon buns. Not to mention those lips.

“now that formalities are done and behind us, doll; i simply insist on walking you home. wouldn't want my new favorite to come to harm.”

Sometimes Sans fancied himself a gentleman and so he stepped next to her. Warm body almost pressed against his. Holding out his arm, he felt her tiny arms loop around them, no real strenght holding her to him. At least she recognized a stern tone when she heard it and knew to obey it. Walking around this late would get her killed and that would not happen. Not on his watch.

He waited for her to take the lead, guiding him to her home.


	4. Coyote Songs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which paper seems to be as important as reading between the lines...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I often feel like when I write, chapters come across as filler chapters. But I have to remind myself of story progression. Can't just get to the juicy bits immediately. I just hope all of you stick around to see it play out!
> 
> Oh, by the way. I don't know if anyone even cares but English is not my native language. So if I make any mistakes, spelling, grammatically or if I simply use phrases the wrong way please don't lynch me for that. I'm trying my best to improve as much as I can.
> 
> Other than that; enjoy!

Sans' arm was warm and soft, yet an undeniable strenght lied within his limbs. My own fingers cling to him, knees weak almost stumbling over straight pavement. The air is strangely cold and wet, puffs of breath escape my lips periodically and I feel the chill portruding my coat; my skin almost feels sticky as if layered with a cold sweat. Huh, perhaps it is exactly that...

Sans seems unbothered by the world. Eyes ahead of the road, his steps strong and languid, he walks with purpose while still abiding by my gentle directions whenever I make a turn. How is that even possible? I pretend to straighten myself a tad, my fingers gripping onto his arm tighter for just a milisecond. I can feel the bones but...they're uniquely soft almost as if cushioned. I spare another glance at his form. His broad shoulders, slightly wide belly and strong legs. Not to mention his height. For a skeleton he sure is packing; and no, I chide myself cheeks turning red, not in that sense.

“admiring the view?”

Sans' red eyes are focused on me. Caught in the act I look away quickly. Can I turn even redder? Sans lets out a gentle laugh, his own arm pulling me a bit tighter to him. A shiver runs down my spine at the jab of warmth going through me. Is he some kind of furnace? Do all monsters have higher body temperatures? Or was it only him? Perhaps he needed it since he was only bones; alas I have no idea of monster physiology.

“please, admire away. i certainly do.” 

“Eh, yeah.”

...Real eloquent. I surpress an embarrassed groan and simply look sideways, trying to let Sans' deep rumble laughter get to me. My knees now definitively want to fold benath me with how hot my blood is boiling. My feet find difficulty in taking step after step. Sans gaze remains on me for a couple more seconds. Laughter dying down I hear him clear his throat, or whatever it is he produces his voice with. He must take pity on me since he decides to change topics so apruptly.

“if i may ask; why is it that your husband decided to let you close the shop all by yourself? it's very dangerous to walk alone this late at night.”

“As you've told me already.”, I hiss back no real venom backing up my mood.

Bristling at the slight condescension because yes, it is getting to a point were it was annoying me, I make quick to correct him.

“And no, I'm not married. But my boss took a few days off because of private matters.”

I don't need to indulge Sans with the details. Perhaps bore him does fit better. Surely he has better things to do than listen to me ramble about my boss.

“who's your boss again?”

Or maybe not. I throw Sans a quick look, his face is devoid of any emotion apart from the lethargic smile that never seems to vanish.

“Joey Marciano.”

If I had looked away a second earlier I would've missed the way his eylights suddendly widen. The deep crimson filling the eyesockets completely, shimmering in the night, illuminating his face in a stunning matter. Magic truly is a beautiful thing to witness...and to envy. My plain eyes could never compete with the sheer beauty of those lights, even BP's green eyes were more than just windows to the soul, gleaming with a defined edge, no human I know possesses.

Sans' begins to laugh. It's a quiet deep laugh and despite it's jovial nature it sends nothing but ugly shivers down my spine. This isn't a happy laugh. It is menancing.

“do you like working there?”

My eyelips flutter, lips part unsure of what to say. It seems like some form of test and my answer would determine the next direction of our relationship. What even am I thinking? Relationship, hah! I'm lucky if I don't see him again after today...although I couldn't deny that I am very intrigued by his person.

“I mean, I guess. I like the craft and Joey's an alright boss.”

Play it safe, Y/n, play it safe.

Sans hums noncommitely, seemingly bored with my answer. His still widened eyelights betraying him though. Blankly focused on the road, he is in deep thought, his fingers absentmindedly stroking the soft skin of my wrist which sends me into haywire. Shivers trickle down my back and I sigh quietly at the unfamilar feeling. I've never gone steady with anyone and such an intimitate touch was new territory for me. It reminds of how uncommon my living situation is and how generous my landlord was to let me stay in a complex with diverse tennants. An unmarried young woman in her twenties? Working with no husband on the horizon? My mother would sheer faint should she ever decide to actually come visit instead of writing half-heartfelt letters. I've already embarrassed them enough a few years back by rejection that whats-his-name's proposal.

...I'm wondering what courtship and relationships for monsters are like? Throwing a quick glance at Sans' hands I'm stilled in my thoughts. Do monsters even wear wedding rings? How do they propose? Is there even something like a marriage? There isn't much known about monsters and apart from powerful magic and crazy appearences nobody truly knew how they functioned. As a species as well as a society. The only thing in common with humans so far was the taste for crime and money. Perhaps greed was an innate quality after all...

“what's got you so deep in though, missy? with your brow furrowed like that it looks like your head might explode.”

Sans chuckle rips me out of my thoughts and to my utter embarrassment I realize we've actually walked a few doors past my apartment. A shy laugh escapes me and I turn around, my arm leaving his warm grip.

“Nothing much, just...it was a long day and I'm already falling asleep.”

Sans grin widens significantly, a teasing glance in his once again small eyelights.

“don't tell me you need me to tuck you in. will you even find your bed?”

Cue another wave of red.

“i'm just joking, missy. couldn't resist a last jab at'cha.”

The light chuckle that escapes my lips surprises even me. Although Sans is intmidating with his stature and gold rings, he is kind of a well...kind person. At least from what I now know...

“It's alright. I just wasn't expecting another one. Eh...thank you very much for walking me home tonight, Sans. I'll make sure the cinnabuns will be extra delicious tomorrow.”

I send him a bright smile, genuinly grateful for the semi-pleasant walk. His eyelights dim down into a warm simmer.

“heh. no problem, missy. 'twas a nice ending for an awful evening.”

I'm more prepared this time when he takes my hand, pressing another lingering kiss on it. I swallow loudly, watching him bow down again.

“the days are getting colder.”

I furrow my brow in confusion.

“I'm sure...one can already taste the winter air coming through.”

Sans nods, index finger stroking my inner wrist. The sensation was weirdly comforting.

“hm...if you ever need a warm place to stay,”, fumbling with a piece of paper he releases my hand. Writing on it quickly, he holds it out for me to take. I make out nothing but a few jumbled numbers.

“be sure to give ol' bp a call. pussy cat'll lead you right to the fireplace.”

Sans makes no move to leave until I accept the number. Standing like a sentinel, not a twitch of the finger, his eyes drilled onto my face. He doesn't know me, I remind myself, he doesn't even know me! Customer or not, this...this isn't normal! To give a number to someone you practically just met! What am I thinking about? We have just met!

With dry lips and a thumping heart I take the paper from him.

“good evening then, missy.”

Saturday was the worst day for customers so I was thanking every holy entity in existence for the absolute worst weather. Heavy autumn rain falls down like the world was ending, the small drains outside overflowing with water, barely managing to absorb it all. A few screaming pedestrians ran by the window once it has started, holding briefcases and newspapers above their heads searching for the next dry place. Which funnily enough ist't the little bakery.

Alas...it does look like the rain won't stop anytime soon. I wouldn't want to be trapped someplace either, rushing home to the familiarity of ones house seems like the only alternitive.

“Looks like you brought the bad weather with you, Joey.”, I joke lightly, wiping the counter clean off of invisible crumbs.

“Ah, sure did Y/n! I knew, it was a bad idea to come today but a feeling in my gut got me movin'.”

“What? Were you afraid I burned the shop down or something?”

A cheeky grin on my lips I check the cooling cinnamon buns. Another dozen freshly made for Sans. I haven't seen him since the evening a few days ago but BP came in every day before noon, picking up the treats and leaving the money with a hefty tip. The look on the cat monsters face on wednesday was undescribable. I snort. Eyes like a wild possum, lips strained and teeth clenched together I had thought he was possessed by the devil or at the very least suffered a stroke. But no...of course he had heard about my meeting with his boss, Sans and was not to pleased with it. I had been almost afraid of him before he simply had sighed and told me exactly what Sans had told me the evening prior. Just less cryptically.

It is almost comical how much I like that cat. He's so down to earth with a no-crap attitude. Not the nicest fellow but everyone has some baggage to carry.

“...Y/n?”

Joey's strained voice gets my attention.

“Yeah?”

Walking out of the bureau, not sparing a glance my way Joey holds some financial cluster.

“You've been serving Sans Font?”

The harsh wrinkles in his face harden as he stares me down unrelentingly. I swallow down a lump, my breath hitches for an unknown reason. Why am I afraid? Sans is a paying customer and as long as he doesn't do anything, he had the right to be served like any other person. Although Joey seems to think differently. Glancing back down at the papers, he rubs his forehead.

“Y/n...I don't want that monster scum doing any business here.”

...what?

“Joey with all due respect; you can't just discriminate someone based of their species.”

“Like hell I can't!”, Joey never raises his voice. The yell makes me stumble back, eyes wide I feel the blood pounding in my ears. He must realize how distraught I feel since he immediately paddles back. “Look, monsters are dangerous. Always have, always will. Ever since their ugly mugs tumbled out of that mountain.”

Joey approaches but I hold my ground, eyes now fiercely focused on him. While I am against crime in my city, I wouldn't stand for bigotry. Least of all from Joey who had almost been like a father to me. Heart burning I clung to his mouth, analysing every single word leaving it. I feel the anger churn in my stomach. I want to leave badly. Turn time back before anything was said. 

“I can understand and in fact am very proud that you won't let any customers slide but...sometimes it's better for business to just say no to someone.”

My lips tremble in barely concealed anguish.

“No, he is a paying customer who has every right to come and buy whatever it is he wants. You can't just ban him for no reason.”, I press through clenched teeth, an unusual anger pooling in my guts making me tremble with cold sweat.

The bell chimes loudly.

“...Am I interruptin' somethin'?”

BP closes his umbrella, his suit barely wet as he shivers slightly at the sudden rise in temperature. I feel Joey stiffen beside me. BP licks his lips, eyes narrowing towards the other male, posture straightening as if to battle, he immediately picks up on the strained atmosphere.

“He troubling you, missy?”

I'm thrown out of my shock.

“No, no! Everything's alright. Geez it's raining cats and dogs out there. Shall I make you a hot coffe for the road?”

BP's form relaxes slightly just befoe he shoots me an exsaperated grimace.

“Did you say that on purpose?” I am stumped.

“Say what?”

“Nothing. And yes please.” BP rubs his eyes, a loud (and very cat like) yawn leaving him, showing off his sharp canines. An amused huff leaves him not long after.

“That you boss or somethin'?”

I glance back, seeing Joey had hid back in the bureau. I'm sure that conversation wasn't over. Pilling the anguish away I put on my best smile, packing the freshly made treats neatly together.

“Yes, he decided to drop by today. We just had a little bit of a heated discussion.”

“Huh, I'm sure.” Again the sarcastic voice. I really should not lie to BP, he could read me like an open book. Placing the coffee with the bag next to him, I throw him a tired half-smile. His index fingers motions me to him. I lean in curious.

“Don't leave the house after sundown tonight.”

My heart misses a beat.

“What?”

“Don't what me just don't leave, got it?”

My eyes flutter and I lean back absolutely confused. Why shouldn't I leave tonight? In any case...

“I work until midnight. I won't even be home by that time.”

BP clicks his tongue, pawing some money.

“Then I'll pick you up at six. That's not up for discussion by the way. See ya.”

Without another word BP opens his umbrella, small specks of water hitting me. The cool splash tickling my senses. Between Joey's anger and BP's mysterious order I feel like I am in a weird dream, waiting to wake up. The situation not sinking in truly, I stare after the cat who once again left a big tip.

“What did that cretin want?”, Joey's rough voice echoes from the back. Ah, now he was brave enough?

“Nothing.”, I reply sadly, wiping down the counter once more.


	5. The Right To Remain A Liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the heart is the only thing to betray you...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That feeling when you're writing a Sans x Reader story but are high-key falling for the BP you created... I don't know about you but BP really means alot to me in this piece of work. He's an important anchor in the story and will play an even bigger role in the future. And as mentioned...I'm kinda soft for him.
> 
> Apart from that; thank you all so much for over a hundred kudos already! I know Mafiafell stories are not everyone's cup of tea so thank you to everyone who likes and comments on the story!
> 
> Either way thanks for sticking with the story, we're not even close to being over!

The windy rain had not eased up over the hours and my luck was apparantly running out. Great, there is truly nothing better than making my way back home through water puddles and shower rains in the middle of the night. I just hope my heels will survive this time since I do not have the money to have them replaced with real leather again. And I am certainly not looking in the face of cork just yet.

...I wasn't stupid of course. Nor was I blind or ignorant. Apart from mob violence times were getting rough. Rich people enjoying their parties and dancing the night away, poor people looking for scraps and collecting rain water in old bathtubs. And the middle? Constantly balancing the fine line if only not to drift down below. But numbers and radio reports did not lie and every little dollar was treasured like pure gold.

But what kind of life was that? Working like crazy from early in the morning till the sun sets once again, counting every penny twice only to never spend any of it. Too scared of random incidents or upleading loans. My pride was the only thing that truly stood in the way of having me taken care of. Or however my mother described it. I had to admit that I often pondered how it would be and that perhaps I should have taken that step instead of working myself to the bone but... the inner voice inside of me won every time and so I woke everyday with the early morning birds.

The chime of the bell...can go to hell at this point.

“Hello, missy. Geez, what's put you in such a bad mood?”

BP in all his ruggedy furred glory has an easy grin on his face, eyes half-lidded he doesn't even bother closing his umbrella.

“Nothing much. Why're you here?”

“It's six.”, he answers plainly. “Pack up and let's go.”

Oh. Right. His earlier comment on how I shouldn't be outside after six.

“Why again are you picking me up?”, comes my question to which BP's smile tightens. 

“A sweet spot, let's leave it at that.”

I furrow my brow at BP's cryptic answer. Sweet spot? What's that supposed to mean? Looking at the cat monster does not help me in the slightest either and just makes me realize how secretive these monsters actually are. Despite knowing BP's connection to Sans and vice versa and their apparent engangement in the mob...they've both never even uttered a word about it.

“You do remember that I told you I can't close the shop yet? Joey would fire me.”

BP smirks, a low hiss escaping his teeth.

“And where is Joey right now?”

Cue silence from my side. Looking away my fingers shake with repressed embarrassment. After BP's earlier depart Joey had been on my heels, questioning me- no. Interrogating me about everything I knew about them. He had been invasively close to me and for the rest of the day had not smiled at me once. It was like a complete stranger had suddendly started working there and never in my life had I felt so intimidated by another human being. Especially one so close to me. It had noticably dampened my mood for the entire day.

“...he left earlier. Thought I could handle everything else on my own.”

There is no denying that it was some form of perverse punishment for my backtalk. Joey knows how much work running the shop was and him leaving suddendly early despite telling me he'd be there for the whole day, claiming I had everything under control in a sugary sweet voice I was not used to, had me reeling.

BP knocks on the counter, having me meet his eye. I could read his expression like an open book.

“Were would you take me anyway?”

Am I really considering this? Leaving my job early, risking my work place and potentially angering my boss?

Hell yeah I am.

“Just home. Told you it was dangerous after night fall.”, BP whispers gently.

The street lamps are not on yet but the gloomy weather makes it seem like night has already come. Looking outside the window makes me realize how late it is for this time of the year. Autumn and winter are so depressing.

“...alright. Promise you won't kidnap me?”, I tease equally gently and for some reason a wet film lays over my eyes. A tight coil burned in my belly thinking about the day has me press back tears willing to spill. BP saves me from embarrassment by ignoring my surely red eyes. His smile softens at the edges.

“Ready the store, I'll wait for you.”

I am quick with turning off the ovens and the lights, not even bothering with properly drying the washed dishes, they could join Joey in hell for all I care! I move hastily to put my overcoat on, my scarf loosely around my neck. BP stands like a sentinel at the shop windows, unmoving just watching the street. He holds out his arm for me to take and after a quick locking and rattling the door, I intertwine it with his. BP's umbrella is big enough for the two of us to walk without so much as a drop on our upper bodies at least. My feet however...I already know I'd have a slight cold tomorrow. Although, curling up with a hot cup of tea with honey, warming my feet on the heater does not sound too bad. Neither does feigning sickness because I was currently very sick of Joey's behavior. Alas...

“By the way...”, BP catches my attention, “Boss said something about asking you to an outing.” Confused I furrow my brows. Whatever does he mean?

“Come again?”

“Boss wants you to accompany him to a neighborhood meeting tomorrow.” BP's voice is devoid of any emotion, face strained like a violin. I find it weird how expressive and unreadable he is at the same time. The ugly grimace remains once I nod. Hah...it was whatever right? And Sans has been more than decent (apart from his slightly lewd words) in his behavior. If he wants to invite me somewhere I'm more than inclined to go. And Joey could rip his hairs out and chew on a broom if he wants to! 

“...you're not even going to ask what or why?”, BP voices almost accusingly.

I raise a brow.

“What and why?”, I reply snarkily.

“Geez, you really are in a bad mood today.”

I let out a sad sigh. “I'm sorry. Please tell me what I'm getting into.”

BP is right. I shouldn't let my bad mood out on him.

“Boss he...eh...has one of those business parties”, BP mimics quote characters, “you know neighborhood business. And since you're kinda in a business...shit missy, he just likes your pretty face 'aight?”

Am I supposed to feel offended? I feel like I should. Biting my lip I throw a glance towads BP. His grimace is still intact yet he keeps his gaze focused on the street ahead of him. So that's why Sans was interested in me? I was...pretty? My heart had missed a beat when he had called me his new favorite those few nights ago but...maybe I was stupid. And blind. And ignorant. And maybe I only heard what I wanted to hear. Why else would Sans be interested in me? He doesn't know me personally and I am sure he thinks I'm an easy girl, who'd drop her panties and hand over her cherry just for some charming words and flaunting gestures.

...why was I reading so much into it? Sans likes me and invited me somewhere. That's it. End of story.

“Please tell him that I'll come.”

“You sure?”, BP is quick to fire back, “'Cause I'll bet he understands if you say no.”

“...yeah”, I stretch the word out, “Something tells me he won't.”, BP snickers tragically, his eyes turn wistful.

“You're probably right. Was worth a shot though.”

“Why are you so against me meeting with Sans, I mean your boss?”

He sends me stupid grimace. Right, dumb question Y/n.

“Don't take this the wrong way 'cus I know it looks exciting and all but...you don't want nothing to do with us. Believe me.”

For a tiny single little moment I caught a glimpse of something deeply hidden underneath BP's rough exterior. A soft core that emerges only under certain cirumstances and I am flattered that he cared so much for me. I squeeze his arm gently, the soft fur beneath his suit bristling under my touch.

“A bit late for that, don't you think?”, I retore with a pityful smile.

We halt a few steps down my apartment door. Confused I look around, a bit irritated about how BP knows where I live exactly alas...Sans most likely told him. His arm leaves me and he gives me another tight smile however this one looks slighty more genuine.

“Take care, missy. We'll be in contact and...don't leave the house no more tonight.”

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

“Miss L/n? Would you please open the door, we have a couple questions for you.”

Completely disoriented I stumble out of my bed, a shiver running up my spine once my feet hit the chilly floor. I barely manage to throw over my morning robe careful not to trip over anything as I dash to the entrance. Who in God's holy name is knocking my door down on a Sunday morning?

My question is easily answered when two uniformed gentleman bow their heads once I open the door. Instinctively I tighten my robe around my shivering body, staring wide eyes at the men who appeared to be in an even more than disgruntled mood than myself.

“Good morning, officers. Can I help you?” My voice tumbles with confusion and I don't dare to think about what had happened.

“G'morning Miss. Mighty apology for startling you this morning but...are we correct in assessment that you work down in Clearbay Street?”

I nod silently.

“Trista's Treats, correct? Well, we had to inform you of a shooting that took place last night in Clearbay.”

My stomach drops and shatters into a million buzzing wasps. Cold sweat layers my forehead and I hold the doorframe not to stumble on my weak knees. One of the officers, the younger one notices my swaying and his hand grips my elbow softly to steady me.

“Easy there miss. We truly apologize for the inconvenience. Such news can startle a faint heart.”

Fait heart my ass!

“Regardless we wanted to ask if you'd seen something perhaps.”

My heart misses a beat.

…

I swallow harshly.

“Or maybe if you know of something or if something seemed strange to you these last couple of days.”

_Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum._

“No. I don't know about anything. I...closed the shop earlier yesterday because of the bad weather, you see.”, the officers nod in understanding and I am in disbelief at how easily the white lie rolls off my tongue, “and headed straight home. Anything after six pm is a mystery to me.”

The men look at each other before nodding. The younger one squeezes my elbow gently before leaving it be, observing me for any startling movement.

“Well, in any case you should-”

_R-r-r-ing. R-r-r-ing. R-r-r-ing._

“Oh! Pardon me; my phone.”

The landline rings out of control and I look between it and the two men in my doorway. The older one spares a single curious glance into my apartment before nodding.

“We don't want to take up more of your time. But please, should you remember anything of importance please don't hesitate to come down to the police station.”

I nod in a rush, eager to be left alone to pick up the phone.

...yet the younger one still has another word of warning.

“And we advise you to stay away from work for at least a day. Our collegues are still working on the crime scenes so the shops have been closed for today.”

“Alright, yeah. Stay at home got it.” 

Was I too bold or disrespectful in my disregard? The phone is still ringing after all. The two officers don't seem to mind as they turn downstairs finally leaving me be. I shut the door with almost a weird form of vengence, rushing to the phone before picking up out of breath.

“Hello?”

“Y/n? Thank god you picked up! I was worried sick! What took you so long? How's the shop, how are you?”

...how's the shop? Is Joey's first real question truly; how's the shop? My hands ball into fists and I take a shuddering breath to calm myself.

“I'm fine. Thanks. How'd you know what happened?”

“Police was at my door this morning, told me about what happened up-street. Thank god it was just a few bullet holes throught the glass. Did anything happen to you?”

…

…

…

“No, I eh...hid in the back. Yeah, I first thought it was thunder but...you know.”

Joey hums quietly and I hear his deep sigh over the landline.

“Well, I won't open the shop for a few days, so take your time to collect yourself and calm down a bit. Gotta go now, I've already arranged a meeting with the guy from insurance.” A slight twitch tugs at the corner of my lips.

“Okay, bye.”

Hanging up, my knees crash under me and I slide down the wall into a pitiful heap of flesh. I lied to Joey. I lied to my boss! He doesn't know I wasn't in the shop, he doesn't know I closed earlier due to BP but...why did I even? I could've just told him the truth and leave BP out of it since of course he'd start another argument. Maybe it was that small part Italian still flowing through his veins or whatever.

I take a deep breath.

Clearbay Street was shoot up. Mobsters shot at each other in Clearbay Street. There was a shooting in Clearbay Street. BP had warned me about this...didn't he? He knew something was going to happen which was why he told me to stay put after night fall. The rumors are true after all, aren't they? The monsters were finally making their way uptown, taking more ground for themselves. Now they were invading Plattriver and I don't know what was right and wrong anymore. I should be disgusted by whatever was happening, rationally I knew that but...both BP and Sans they were so...nice. Being so close to them muddles with my objective view. Gnawing my lip almost bloody raw I pick up the phone next to me. I finger the lose piece of paper nervously as the line rings omniously.

“...hello?”

“BP? Sorry for calling you this early but-”

“whoa, whoa...slow down, missy.”

The words die on my lips.

“'s not bp here, he's currently...unavailable. you're stuck with little ol' sans i'm afraid.”

“...Hey.”, I breathe out silkily. A deep chuckle rumbled from the other side.

“i've been meaning to contact you today anyway. what a coincidence, missy. now, what can i do for you, doll?”


	6. Flappy Fish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whatever was she doing there...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably won't be able to post next week so here's another quick update. This chapter is more or less of the filler caliber buuut the actual conversation will have to wait.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Edit* sorry for the chapter mishap, that's what happens when you're tired and have fayt thumbs lol

I am stumped. Hearing Sans' deep voice over the phone has me frozen and unable to act for a good minute. Thoughts wiring together and untangling once again I shake my head from side to side to get a clea thought out.

“You knew.”

I used to be more eloquent.

Sans is equally confused as he grunts in mild irritation.

“gotta be more specific, doll. i know a lot'a things.”

“The...dispute in Clearbay Street last night.”, I phrase neutrally.

“dispute?!”, Sans' roaring laughter booms through the line and I can only imagine him doubling over in amusement. How come he could make me blush without even being present? Nibbling on my lip I wait out till his laughter ceases to a low chuckle.

“oh, doll...you might not want to hear it but you just made my day.”, no, I do want to hear it, “however, let's call it by the name missy. some of ours offed some of Livio's and that's that.”

“...Did...you guys loose any?”, my voice nothing but a whisper.

“ha! not on my brother's watch! why? don't tell me you care for us ol' monsters.”

Sans' question is more than valid. Why exactly do I care if some monsters got dusted last night? It's not like I know any of them personally and less monsters mean less mobsters and therefore less violence in my part of town. I know the answer though. My warily blooming friendship with BP, my respect (and perhaps slight admiration) for Sans and everything they do weighs heavily on my mind and I could not stand for Don Livio and his underlings being the same. When does the high and mighty Don ever leave his club up-town, to grace the city folk he so generously squeezes money out of? Where BP leaves me tips, the collecters might even beat up the corner kids just for playing in their way.

“doll? you still there?”, Sans' tentative voice rips me out of my thoughts.

“Yes! Yes...sorry I just spaced out. Eh, you said BP's not there?”

A creaking sound, like a chair or table under pressure is heard.

“yeah, i sent the pussy cat on an errand this morning. why, you sweet on him already?”, the teasing phrase held a vicious undertone.

“No, no, nothing like that. I just wanted to convey my thanks to him and...to you.” Mainly to BP alone but I am sure that the cat monster bringing me safely home last night wasn't done out of the good of his heart alone. And Sans did mention I was his new favorite or something. Blame my fluttering pulse but I was only a woman and those words did do something to me.

“heh, not a bother, doll. told ya the streets were getting colder and we're just a phone call away...”, the deep rumble of his voice sounds like liquid velvet. Pressing my legs closer to my torso, I bite my bottom lip, the pain reminding me of the here and now. God, why am I acting like a school girl?

“which reminds me...bp mentionend you'd let me take you out on this fine evening.”

Oh...! My heart misses a beat and a smile makes it way onto my lips.

“Yeah, I eh...hoped you meant dinner and not...the alternative.”, I joke lamlely already ashamed of that poor try. To my surprise however Sans likes it. Another roaring laughter is heard and I chuckle along more quietly suddendly at ease with how this conversation ist going.

“oh, missy. you're without a doubt cementing your position as ma' favorite. whaddaya say i'll send ya' a car 'round seven? that work for you?”

Well, it's not like I have work in the morning now. I smile sarcasticlly pondering how much money Joey has to pay me still for those free days. I bet he's eating his broom as I speak. Perverse revenge thoughts? Maybe so but after getting to know that side of him, Joey is practically dead in my eyes.

“Yes, it does. I...look forward to seeing you again.”, does that sound needy? “To, eh properly thank you I mean.” There I fixed it. Or did I make it worse? Sans' chuckle is somewhat lewd.

“i bet you do.”, he drawls lazily, “wear somethin' nice for me, doll.”

“Lookie, lookie~ Missy looking all hotsie-totsie without that flour in her hair.”

I pull a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Good evening, BP. You look rather handsome yourself.”

BP eyes me up and down appraisingly, a pained smile on his face.

“Pfft...just my regular suit. I do have more than one.”, he sends me a playfull wink, leading me downstairs.

I chuckle at his attempt to joke but my mind is too scattered to fully register his word. My feet wobble in the higher heels I have donned for tonight, my knee-length sequin dress (one of the finest I own) hugging my curves in a way I am not accustomized. I cannot remember the last time I dared to dress up, must've been the street fair last year and even then a plain skirt and some polished kitten-heels had been more than enough. A matching boa shawl around my shoulders is the only thing shielding me from the chilly coldness which says a lot about the old saying; pain is beauty. My arms feel like pins and needles once we step into the dark autumn night.

“Jump in, missy.”

I freeze. Feet glued to the ground, my eyes widen into saucers. I was going to...the first time... 

“Geez, I know you're nervous and all but it's cold as shit. Get in.”

My timid fingers drift over the leather. Crouching down, one foot after the other, I sit on the cushions. A shriek escapes me when BP closes the door after me. The floor under my feet is solid yet soft at the same time, the windows separating me from the outside world painted with a layer of dust and dirt.

BP joins me in the car, a loud yawn escaping him, canines exposed to the world. My stomach drops when the motor roars to live and I instinctively hold onto the next best thing in my reach – the cushions underneath my very behind.

“...First car ride?”

“...yeah.”, I answer shyly. BP's apparent grin gets wider and he laughs breathily. “Don't worry, missy. I'm a safe driver. I remember the first time I got into this metal thing. Barely left the mountain but...ya now. Bosses like their chauffers.”

His rambling puts me at ease. The city flashing past me I wonder about the way we fly above the street, fast without feeling any wind on our faces.

“Would appreciate though, if ya' claws didn't scratch the leather.”

“Oh sorry.”

I've forgotten about the cushions and with a sheepish smile I let go. Yeah, Y/n, it's not like you can afford to replace them, I remind myself gently and instead stare out the window. The street lamps morph together into a blur of light, houses upon houses pass by. I'm especially fascinated once we pass the mighty Flier Bridge, separating Plattriver from uptown. The water shimmers lightly and I swallow harshly once I notice some shapely figures on the streets. Monsters.

Of all shapes and sizes they walked the streets up and down. Lit shops still open gleaming with colorful lights, bars and cafes buzzing with life despite the time. Or maybe I am turning into an old woman. A deadpan on my face I still stare in wonder at the different boards painted in neon and pastel, exotic plants and monsters mingling, talking, laughing. It is so much livelier than the human parts of town.

BP halts the car in front of what looks like a normal bar. Unlike the crazy neon and pastel colors from earlier this one's rather plain. A black facade, swinging doors made of, what looked like massive ebony and a sign above them. In red regal letters the name Grillby's was engraved boldly. This is the place for a neighborhood outing?

Alright...who am I kidding? Sans has invited me on a sort of, maybe rendevous and I can feel my heart beating morse code in my chest. I'm unsure of what it wants to tell me, I don't even know if it's good or bad. One thing I knew for certain; this is absolutely unlike me.

“Well, we're here, missy. Boss is inside already, just go to him.”

I turn towards the cat, my lips dry a clump in my throat.

“BP...is this a bad idea?”

The tired eyes bore into mine intensely. If anyone would know it is the cat monster. He knows Sans. He knows how the world works.

“It would be a worse one not to go inside at this point.”, he murmurs truthfully and I stiffle a sigh. How right he is...there is no escaping now that I'm tumbling on the edge of the lions den. If I wasn't jumping in voluntarily someone would surely push me.

Hah, I think back to meeting BP. And how I wanted nothing to do with these monsters. Sitting next to one, being expected by another in such a short amount of time toppled my world view massively. I take a deep breath.

“Well, here goes nothing.”

“Wait...Y/n.”

I halt in everything I do.

“Stick to boss...and if you can't then to the singer...Shyren.”

My eyes twich from side to side. BP has used my name. The weight of the situation is finally sinking in and I swallow the heavy dread down my throat. Lips trembling I nod passively, exiting the car. Only when the cold night air brushes my cheeks, do I finally get how hot my cheeks are. Shivers run down my skin, my feet like lead as I make my way to the bar. Pushing past a few monsters who eye me up and down with interest, the warm yet sophisticated atmosphere greets me once I enter the salon. A bar that stretched over an entire wall is filled with various amounts of liquor. Fine tables and chairs along with booths fill up the massive space, a stage showcasing a...beautifully shimmering fish lady. Her scales are the color of the rainbow and her webbed mane sways gently as if she was underwater. I don't even notice how much of a full I look, just standing in the middle of the bar until a familiar figure lifts my chin up.

“evening, doll. you look positvely enchanting.”

Sans' drawl makes me shiver and I stare up at him in wonder. He still wears the same outfit he had donned the day I met him if only a bit neater. The hand on my face, strokes my cheek softly and my breath hitches at the intimacy.

“must be a mighty cold night out. your cheeks are all red. c'mon lets get ya' warmed up.”

Entwining our arms I am aware of the gossping mouths and curious eyes following us. Monsters whispering behind their hands, pointing fingers at me. There is not one other human being in sight. Acutely aware of that fact I make an effort not to trip over my feet, Sans' arm holding me firmly by his side. He leads me towards a booth, lonesome safe for the two of us.

“get comfortable, missy. what'cha drinkin'?”

“Eh...whatever you recommend.”, I follow up with an uneasy smile.

Sans raises a brow, grin slightly larger, his sharp teeth are glistening under the warm light of the massive chandelier.

“be back in a second.”

The monsters observing the spectacle don't even have the decency to look away or stop their chattering when our eyes meet. The attention is getting to me and at last I realize what sort of bad idea this was. Monsters don't mix with humans and these one's were dangerous as hell. There must be a reason BP warned me to stay away. Sans is at the bar, talking to the bartender a...fire elemental? He is taking his sweet time with whatever he orders and my eyes drift away.

Meeting the hazy ones of a gorgeous fish who lets out a shrieking melody.


End file.
